"Rather, old chap," replied Green, without hesitation.
"Well, the four of us who stuck up on watch all last night are going to turn in at once. The other fellows won't be long after us, I fancy. What I want you to do is this—to take charge, maintain order, and keep watch for the arrival of Mr Buckley. Directly you hear the boat approaching the landing wake us up. We must give him a rousing welcome, you know."
"Right-o! I'll see to all that," assented Green. "My word, you do look tired."
"And I jolly well feel it," agreed Atherton, with an irrepressible yawn. "Now, you fellows, who's going to have a snooze?"
When Atherton awoke he could hardly believe his senses. It was broad daylight. The other occupants of the tent, thoroughly tired out with their exertions, were sleeping soundly.
The Leader sat up and rubbed his eyes.
"Surely young Green never let me sleep like this on purpose," he muttered. "And the new Scoutmaster has arrived and I wasn't there to receive him and hand over the care of the two patrols. A pretty fine Scout I am; and a nice mess I've made of things."
In anticipation of being called at ten o'clock Atherton had "turned in all standing." He pulled out his watch. It was seven o'clock.
Unlacing the door of the tent, the Leader stepped out. The sun was shining brightly. The storm had passed, but the wind still remained fairly high.
Atherton gazed at the ashes of the camp fire. They were still red hot. An iron pot, suspended by a chain from a tripod, was hanging over the embers. The fire had evidently been kept up for long past midnight.